Panic
by dontmindmehomie
Summary: Who knew leaving your keys in your car could cause so much trouble? Rated T for violence. NOT a humor fic. Work in progress. Chapter 2 up!
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Panic (_WIP_)

**Rating**: T for violence, blood, all that stuff.

**Pairing**(s): Maybe House/Cam? Not sure yet.

**Timeframe**: None in particular.

**Spoilers**: None.

**Summary**: Who knew leaving keys in your car could cause so much trouble?

**Disclaimer**: I don't own House, and if I did... well, that'd never happen.

**Author's Notes**: Yeah, my grammar and spelling are a bit off. I'm gonna be like everyone else and blame it on my age. :P I'm 14. And there's also the fact that I wrote the rough draft to this at 6:00 AM without sleep (major insomniac here. 0o) And the logic? It's probably extremely off. Especially the medical stuff. Try not to get to distracted by all my errors:D

* * *

"Damn this..." House muttered as he tried to remember where he parked his car. Someone had taken his parking spot that morning. He would usually call tow truck, but today he just couldn't be arsed.  
Suddenly, he heard someone call his name and turned around to see Cameron running toward him. 

'Oh, what now...' House thought.

"House," Cameron said, out of breath. "You weren't at your usual parking spot. What happened?"

"Nothing, someone jack ass used my parking space. May I ask why you were looking for me?"

"I left my keys in my car this morni--" Cameron started until House interrupted.

"Oh c'mon Cameron, you're better than that."

"Seriously House, I need you to, well, drive me home so I can grab my spare set of keys and then drive me back here."

"Can't you break the window? Or maybe call Triple A? Onstar?"

"Windows cost money, Triple A is slow, and I don't have Onstar."

"Triple A can't be as slow as me." House laughed and started to continue walking. Cameron grabbed his arm.

"Ha, Wilson told me you're a reckless driver,"

"Oh, so you're planning on commiting suicide? I'll drive extra crazy, just for you."

"House, please."

"Have you seen the price of gas nowadays? No way!" Just then Cameron spun on her heal and started to leave.

"Alright, alright. But don't mess up my car..."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"God House, what the hell are we listening to?"

"It's Guerrilla Radio by Rage Against the Machine. Kicks ass."

"Well, could you turn it down a little?" Cameron said, just in time for the song to blair the lyrics 'turn that shit up!'

"But they tell me to turn it up!" House yelled as he turned the volume up even more.

Cameron sighed and stayed quiet in the back seat until House started taking a different Route.

"Where are we going? This sure isn't the way to my apartment."

"I thought you wouldn't ask; I forgot that I need gas."

"Oh c'mon House, you're better than that." Cameron smirked.

"Hey, you're the one that's freeloading on my gas." House said as he pulled over into the gas station.

Cameron rolled her eyes. "It's called carpooling, House."

"The only thing carpooling does is put up a useless lane on the highway that could be filled with lone drivers like me," he said as he got out of the car. "Be right back."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few minutes passed by, and Cameron was getting impatient. "It doesn't take that long to fill up your tank, House." she said as she stepped out of the car.

When House didn't reply, she turned around to see him being held at gunpoint by a masked man with his arm wrapped tightly around House's neck.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed. Panic surged through her.

"Cameron... don't move..." House gasped, fear ringing through his voice.

"Shut up!" the man yelled as he hit House on the back of the head with the butt of his handgun. House stumbled a little, but the blow wasn't hard enough to knock him unconscious.

"Let go of him, you bastard!" Cameron yelled as she ran towards him, adrenaline rushing through her veins.

House started yelling for her to stop, but the man put up his gun and shot Cameron in her upper arm and she fell to the floor.

"No!" House said in panic.

"Make a move like that again and I'll kill you both! Give me your car! Now!" the man shouted. His grip loosened and he was waving his gun around in the air. House saw an opportunity.

House, forgetting all about his leg, suddenly grabbed the man's arm and simultaneously tried to swipe the gun out of his hand. They were now both facing eachother and fighting for control over the gun. The gun was dangerously pointing in all directions, and the man started to squeeze the trigger rapidly. Cameron watched helplessly from the ground.

Two bullets managed to hit their target. One was now lodged in House's abdomen, and the other in his left thigh.

House yelled in pain, and with one last surge of energy, he pried the gun out of the man's hands, pointed it towards the criminal, and started firing. Thecriminal scrambled and tried to run away, but he was too slow.The manwas first hit in the shoulder, then right above his right eye. He then fell to the floor, dead.

House collapsed and in shock he started shivering in pain. "Cameron... help..." He gasped, his own blood starting to pool around him.

Cameron, forgetting all about the pain in her arm, ran towards him and fell to her knees beside him. "Oh my god..." she gasped.

"It-it's cold... are... are you okay?" he asked weakly, his voice barely a whisper.

"Don't worry, I--I'm fine," her voice was shakey, eyes filled with tears.

"Good..." he managed to say before he slipped into unconsciousness.

Cameron gasped, and in complete panic she checked for House's pulse. It was slow, and she could barely feel it. "Someone help!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. "Help!" she yelled again. The place seemed deserted. She ripped a few strips of fabric from her shirt and tried to stop bleeding as much as she could.

She ran into the gas station's snack shop to try to call 911 only to find a cashier with a bullet in his head, and an empty cash register. She screamed and ran back outside to get her cellphone from her purse in the car.

She emptied her purse out onto the floor and grabbed her cellphone and called 911.

"Hold on Greg..." she pleaded.

* * *

**EDIT**: Fixed a few errors, and changed somethings here and there. I thought it seemed a little unfair that the criminal got to escape without a scratch... 

**EDIT AGAIN**: Editted even further. Thanks moonstruck. :) I need a beta reader, heh. I added a little conversation, and yeah, the logic was really screwed up (I wrote the rough draft at 6:00 AM without sleep. don't ask) so Ic hanged some things and decided to just kill the guy. He deserved it anyways. :P Sweet revenge. But I'm not sure about the leg either. I heard adrenaline can make you do very, very crazy things, and when you're in shock I heard you don't feel much until it wears off. But I guess it seems a bit too unrealistic. :) I'll look into it...

**EDIT AGAIN**...: God, I really need a beta reader. :P I decided to change the leg that House got shot in...

Review please. :)


	2. Author Note

**Author Note: **Yeah... sorry... it's not an update. (yeah, I hate it when author announcements come up too... P) I have a lot of ideas in my head for a next chapter, but I can't seem to put them down in a way to make sense. --

I'll try to get a new chapter out ASAP, but I don't know how long that will be.

School + Writer's Block... not a very good combo.

And don't worry about House/Cam... I'm not very good atwriting and creating relationships(or anything at that matter).


	3. Chapter 2

**Title**: Panic (_WIP_)

**Rating**: T for violence, blood, mild swearing--all that stuff.

**Pairing**(s): None so far...

**Timeframe**: None in particular.

**Spoilers**: None.

**Summary**: Who knew leaving keys in your car could cause so much trouble?

**Disclaimer**: I don't own House, and if I did... well, that'd never happen.

**Author's Notes**: Sorry this took so long to update! I couldn't think of much to write (blame my _very_ creative mind).

And once again, I am not a doctor. I'm just a 14-year-old kid with nothing to do that knows nothing about medicine--please don't kill me for my medical inaccuracies. P

* * *

"I'm fine, really..." Cameron insisted while talking to the paramedic in the ambulance. She was lying down on a stretcher--surely she didn't need this... 

"You'll have surgery to remove the bullet from your arm as soon as we get to the ER. And you've also lost a lot of blood. You'll need a blood transfusion. What blood type are you ma'am?"

"Type O" she said, and the paramedics continued bustling around her.

House was in a different ambulance, being rushed a bit more urgently to PPTH than her.

God, she was worried. She was worried sick. The event kept replaying itself in her head--images of House being shot, screaming in pain kept assaulting her memory. She cursed herself for just lying there in a state of shock, helpless.

She would never forgive herself--this whole event was at her fault it seemed...

* * *

"_Ow_," was all House could think as he slowly regained consciousness. "_Wait... what the hell?_" House thought. Where was he? 

He opened his eyes and looked around. Bright, annoying lights, a bunch of paramedics looking down on him... He noticed he was still in his regular and... bloody clothes. He must of just got there.

Shit. He was being wheeled around in a gurney in the ER. Oh joy.

"Sir?" he heard someone say. And the rest rest he couldn't understand. All he heard was babbling. It was something about being... shot? Oh yeah. The stupid (and now dead) robber with the gun. Wow. He was suprised he was still alive... Cameron! Where was she?

House tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. He heard himself yell and he rolled over onto his left side and clutched his stomach as sharp pains assaulted his abdomen.

"Sir, I need you to stay calm," he heard the same person that was talking to him earlier say.

"Why don't you give me something for the pain, dumbass?" House wanted to yell.

Along with his abdomen, his left leg was also radiating with pain, and not to mention the usual pain in his right leg which now felt all to painful to be usual. He closed his eyes tightly and squirmed around, groaning, as he tried to keep his mind off all the pain.

"Greg?"

"_Wait, who was that?_" House thought. His eyes opened and he opened his mouth to respond, but nothing coherent seemed to come out of his mouth. The pain was growing in intensity along with his screams of pain. Darkness was starting to engulf his vision. All he could do was scream.

"I need 50mg of Demerol, stat!" he heard someone yell. Was that... Cuddy?

In a few moments, he felt the drug enter his system and felt immediate relief.

The sharp pains quickly turned into dull aches, and he let himself slip back into merciful unconsciousness...

* * *

Wilson groaned as he got of the couch to answer is pager. "Oh c'mon... I just got home..." he whined. His pager was still on his belt, which was still attached to his pants, which were on the floor along with an assortment of other clothing items. "Wow, I really need to clean up in here," he mused as he picked his pager nonchalantly--clueless of the shock that was about to come. 

_"House and Cameron in ER--come here NOW!_

_L. Cuddy"_

Wilson just stared at his pager, thoughts racing through his mind.

'What happened? How bad were they hurt? What the hell...?'

For all he knew, Cameron and House could just be hanging out in the ER, drunk or something. Damn Cuddy and her short messages. But if Cuddy had to stick to that short of a message, something serious had to have happened, right?

He expected the worse--the thing was he didn't exactly know what the 'worst' was. He quickly put his work pants back on and a button up shirt over his white tee. He bolted out of the house and into his car and drove over to the PPTH Emergency Room.

* * *

Sorry that took a while--I'll try to update this a bit more often. 

Please review. :)


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